


Gavin Reed Has Issues

by LoveEffect



Series: Gavin Reed Has Issues [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cigarettes, Detroit Awakening, Detroit Evolution, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Everybody curses. A lot., Gavin Reed Backstory, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Gavin Reed Has ADHD, Gavin Reed has depression, Gavin Reed-centric, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Memes, Octopunk Media, Octopunk Media's Detroit: Awakening Fan Film, Octopunk Media's Detroit: Evolution Fan Film, Panic Attacks, Prosthetics, Smoking, Touch-Averse Gavin Reed, Touch-Starved Gavin Reed, also the violence isn't actually that bad. it's a plot point more than anything, but not in the way that you think, fun game: guess which character I'm projecting on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24140902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveEffect/pseuds/LoveEffect
Summary: "Have you met me? God, what isn't bad? You of all people should know that.""We had a rough start, I suppose. But there's much more to admire about you than to detest, I think."Here's that rough start, and the aftermath thereof, and the bits and pieces in between. Gavin learns to not be horrible, Nines learns to navigate the asshole he's grown fond of, and they both figure out the bits of each other that they never meant for others to see.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Jeffrey Fowler & Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Gavin Reed Has Issues [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725469
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96





	1. Don't Touch Me (I'll Spit Poison Again)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did post this and the next chapter as separate fics within the last two weeks, but consider: I made them better.

"Reed," Fowler sighs, the very specific sigh that Gavin has learned means that he's very nearly at the end of his rope, and he snaps his jaw shut. "You legally cannot do field work without a partner, you know this."

"Yeah, sure, but a fuckin' _plastic_? C'mon, Fowler, what the fuck?" Gavin most certainly does not whine, though Fowler pinches the bridge of his nose. Right, end of the rope. Gavin's gonna shut up now.

"Nobody else at this precinct wants to work with your sorry ass," Fowler says, and Gavin knows he's putting it lightly. "You either work with RK900, or you get stuck on desk duty until some idiot rookie tries to be your partner for two weeks before transferring to another precinct entirely."

Gavin tries to swallow down the indignation and curses which will only result in a disciplinary and looks through the glass of the office and into the bullpen. The RK900 unit is talking to Chris at his desk with a slight smile on its face, and Gavin can't suppress the shudder. It's not a real smile, it doesn't reach its eyes.

"Jesus Chri--it looks like Connor, the fuckin' thing," he says.

"I swear, Reed, I know you're just quoting a meme, but I really don't want to write you up for workplace discrimination," Fowler says quietly, and Gavin just throws his head back with a groan. It's not _his_ fault that Jones had decided to stay out of Detroit once the revolution last month was over.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll play nice. Fuck," Gavin says, and he starts for the door.

"Dinner tonight," Fowler calls out. "Martha misses you."

"See you at seven," Gavin says without looking back before pushing the door open. He's always appreciated Fowler's ability to separate work and personal life. He's pretty sure that's the only reason he still puts up with Gavin and keeps inviting him to monthly 'family' meals, even when they're butting heads at the office over warrants and due process.

He sees Hank's eyes tracking him as he makes his way back to his desk, and he takes a breath for whatever bullshit he's about to hear.

"So," Hank drawls out as soon as he gets within earshot. "How many disciplinaries did you get?" Gavin raises a middle finger at him before collapsing into the chair at his desk. He should've grabbed coffee, he'll need the caffeine if people are gonna be chatty today.

"None, fuck you very much," he says and he wakes up his terminal to continue reading the case files he'd just been assigned when Fowler called him into his office. He'll visit the scene once he knows what he's walking into.

"Aw, lookit you! Are you finally turning over a new leaf?" Hank asks in a teasing tone of voice that sets Gavin's teeth right on edge.

"I will punch you, old man. Don't fuckin' test me," he spits through clenched teeth, but Hank just laughs. Connor looks up from its terminal and shoots Gavin one of his fake-ass smiles before turning to its partner.

"It's good that Detective Reed is practicing impulse control. You should be encouraging his efforts, not teasing him," it says, and Gavin sneers.

"Get your brownnosing program out of here, rust bucket," he says, turning to his terminal. He can see Connor shrug out of the corner of his eye. Hank's still chuckling, but seems to consider the conversation finished, thank god. He can finally focus on his case.

"Good morning, Detective Reed," a deep voice says from way too fucking close behind him and Gavin turns way too quickly, tense and ready to throw a punch. He doesn't relax when he realizes that it's the Connor clone. "I noticed you did not have time to prepare your customary coffee before being summoned by Captain Fowler," it says, holding out a paper cup from the break room. Gavin crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, fooling nobody with his show of relaxation.

"And how the fuck do you even know I drink coffee?" he asks. It better not have scanned him or something, it doesn't need to know any of that shit.

"Upon activation, I had access to all of Connor's memories, as I was created to replace him," it says, as if that isn't the weirdest shit Gavin's heard all week. "I did have to ask Officer Miller how you usually take it, however."

Gavin just looks at the android for a second. It has Connor's cadence but a deeper timbre, Connor's face but a sharper bone structure, Connor's eyes but a cold blue that's nearly gray. There's no fucking way he's ever gonna get along with it, especially not if it's running the same brownnosing program Connor is, as if being accommodating and _polite_ is gonna make him like it more.

Tina walks past with an armful of paperwork, smirk firmly in place. "He doesn't like to be handed things," she says in a stage-whisper that carries across the entire fucking bullpen. Gavin can feel his face going red.

"Eat shit, Chen," he says loudly, lurching forward to snatch the coffee out of the android's hands, fast and rough. He brings the cup to his lips as Tina just laughs, continuing toward the filing room. Bitch. At least Chris hadn't fucked him over, the coffee is actually how he usually takes it.

He turns to his terminal. He needs to read the case file, holy shit. The sooner he's at the scene, the better. He can see the android behind him in the reflection on the screen, looking casual and leaning closer, one hand resting on the desk and the other--

The other hand resting lightly on his right shoulder, as if they're friends, as if it's human, as if Gavin's shoulder isn't burning and tense with how wrong the touch feels even through his jacket as his stomach starts doing the same flips it always does when anybody gets into his space without any warning. He doesn't think, can't think as he drops into fight or flight and drops the coffee, twisting to the left to get the hand _off_ , and he barely takes a second to calibrate before he punches RK900's thirium pump regulator with his right hand, the hand he doesn't use for fighting because it's too easy to hit too hard. He doesn't have to worry about that with tin-cans, though.

The android makes a valiant effort of looking confused as it sinks to the floor, limb strength compromised by the disruption to its pump regulator. Gavin wishes he didn't know so much about android anatomy even as his heartbeat thuds in his chest and face and fingers. He just stares at the android on its knees, trying desperately to get his heart rate and breathing and the tremor in his hand and the heat behind his eyes back under any sort of control.

" _Jesus_ , Reed, what the fuck?" Hank asks as he stands from his desk.

Gavin swallows and pitches his voice low enough that at least the humans in the room can't hear him. "Don't fucking touch me." The LED in the android's forehead switches from red to yellow, from _damage_ to _processing, learning, remembering_. 

"Reed!" Fowler bellows from the doorway of his office. "What the fuck did I _just_ say?" Gavin turns to look at his captain, still breathing too damn quickly and wound up tighter than a spring. Fowler actually looks disappointed and doesn't that just sting like a bitch. He grabs his tablet from the desk and stars walking out, but Hank grabs his bicep as he walks by. Gavin bites down the yelp of pain that wants to escape his throat and he hopes nobody hears the choked off noise as he easily smacks Hank's wrist, knocking his grasp off of the seam where skin meets the prosthetic that nobody but him and Fowler know about.

"Don't you fucking dare," he says, nearly growling at Hank, who looks shocked as hell. He turns and avoids Chris' horrified stare and doesn't run out of the precinct, but it's a close thing. He gets outside but the adrenaline won't fade, and his hands shake as he pulls a cigarette from a battered carton. His hands shake so much that if his lighter wasn't plasma, he'd never manage to get the damn thing lit.

A deep drag to pull the smoke into his lungs and force his breathing to slow burns the back of his throat and the tops of his lungs, and the people walking past on the sidewalk give him a wide berth, glaring at the asshole daring to smoke in front of a police station. He hadn't thought to take the backdoor, but whatever. He starts the walk around the building to the parking lot in the back. The adrenaline finally starts to drain away, leaving his left hand shaking and his right hand twitching, nearly crushing the filter. He can't believe he just completely lost his shit in the middle of the department. All from a faux-friendly hand on the shoulder, what the fuck's wrong with him?

He's still on the clock, and he needs to get to the scene, even if he never got a chance to actually read the case file. He'd had the presence of mind to grab his tablet though, so he can skim while he smokes. He leans against his motorcycle, taking shorter and shorter drags as the cherry gets closer to the filter. He may have been smoking for as long as he could convince older kids to buy them for him, but he doesn't smoke nearly often enough to build up much resistance. 

The case file on his tablet tells the story of a college kid with the world ahead of him and a known ice addiction, found dead just a few minutes before Gavin had clocked in. He takes one last drag, holding the smoke in his mouth to let it cool down before pulling it into his lungs as he steps on the filter to snuff it out completely. His head swims a little bit and he exhales slowly, watching the smoke dissipate in the wind. He has a crime scene to get to.

Interviewing the friends and family took the rest of his shift, and when he comes into work the next day, there's a disciplinary warning waiting on his desk. Fowler told him it would be there after dinner last night, just a formality, don't do it again, but the sight still makes his stomach flip. He curses under his breath and drops heavily into his chair. He picks up a pen and tosses it between his hands for a moment. He throws the pen to his right hand, flips it over his thumb, then gets to work. Fucking triplicate forms.

Sharp footsteps grab his attention and he turns to see the RK900 unit approaching with a cup of coffee. Gavin knows he can't hide the tension in his body from a human, let alone an android.

"Good morning, Detective Reed," it says, exactly the same as yesterday, though it places the coffee onto the desk within Gavin's reach before immediately retreating, taking a seat at its desk opposite him. It looks like it's respecting his boundaries, but he knows it's probably just wary of getting punched again, and that knowledge settles like a rock in his stomach.

"Fuck you want?" he asks, turning back to the paperwork. Why the hell do they still use paper, anyway? 

"Perhaps when you're finished with your paperwork, we can discuss your theories for the case, Detective," it says too calmly, too smoothly, too goddamn polite to the man who punched him nearly unprovoked yesterday.

"Classic red ice overdose, there's nothing to discuss," he says, signing the first page without fully reading the report. What were they gonna do, force him to take unpaid leave? Not fucking likely, a third of the department hadn't come back after the revolution.

"I'd beg to differ."

"Then beg," Gavin automatically spits back, immediately regretting it.

"Absolutely not. I analyzed the drug the victim had been smoking. It was cut with a lethal amount of antifreeze."

Gavin looks up. The thing's smirking, as if dealers cutting their product is anything new. "Shit, okay, so we track down the dealer piece of shit who's playing god, we were gonna do that anyway."

RK900 shakes its head, the picture of bemused patience, and Gavin clenches his jaw shut. He can't get another disciplinary before he's even finished this one, and his folder's already thicker than a textbook. "The antifreeze was added within the last three days, long after he purchased the red ice."

Gavin just blinks a couple times as his brain catches up. His harsh exclamation of "FUCK" echoes around the bullpen. He ignores the stares and disgruntled responses in favor of waking up his terminal so he can change the designation of the case from drugs to homicide. "Shit, we have to call in the friends and family, interview them again," he says, already pulling up phone numbers with his left hand to take a mouthful of coffee with his right. Multitasking, fuck yeah.

"That'll be unnecessary, Detective." Gavin freezes and looks up at the android. Its LED blinks yellow a couple times before settling back on blue. "Forensics is nearly finished running the fingerprints lifted from the drawer where the victim hid his stash. We'll have an identity in about fifteen minutes. Hopefully, just long enough for you to finish and file your paperwork."

Gavin looks down at the pages that he'd completely forgotten about. His next "fuck" is muttered under his breath. He hopes Brown isn't on duty in the filing room, that prick never gets his shit done on time.

The plastic across from him looks nearly smug, as if Gavin and the forensics team wouldn't have gotten to that conclusion themselves. He's not about to commend it for making his job slightly more efficient, fuck that. This is how it starts, he knows this. Pair the humans up with the androids, productivity goes up, and then they go out of their way to show that the humans aren't necessary. No more job, and he's just another asshole out on the streets with no other options left. No, he's not about to make the prick's job any easier, not when it's just trying to win brownie points, endear itself to the office asshole. He's not about to give it the satisfaction.

* * *

**Objective** : Work with Detective Reed  
Introduce self  
Make good first impression  
Offer coffee?

The coffee is a good idea. From Connor's memory files, the man drinks entirely too much of it. He approaches quietly, coffee in hand--fresh, hot but not burned (105 degrees Fahrenheit), one teaspoon each of sugar and creamer. He introduces himself and Detective Reed turns quickly.

**Muscles** : tensed  
 **Heart rate** : elevated  
 **//Detective Reed startles at unexpected proximity**  
 **Objective** : Improve coworker relations  
Don't sneak up on Detective Reed  
Make footsteps audible?

Detective Reed doesn't take the coffee, he frowns and crosses his arms until Officer Chen says that "he doesn't like to be handed things." The detective's face goes red and he grabs the coffee, takes a sip, seems to relax slightly.

**Objective** : Introduce self - Complete  
 **Continuing Objective** : Work with Detective Reed.

RK900 has access to the case file on his HUD, but the integration protocol flashes at him.

**Objective** : Improve coworker relations  
Read over Detective Reed's shoulder  
Lean on desk  
Initiate physical contact

A gentle hand on the shoulder, just enough pressure to be felt through Detective Reed's heavy jacket, and RK900 realizes the miscalculation when the detective drops the coffee. He doesn't bother with a preconstruction, doesn't think it will be necessary, but then a fist hits his thirium pump regulator with surprising force.

**Error** : Thirium pump regulator disrupted  
 **Normal operations resume** : 5 seconds

"Don't fucking touch me," Detective Reed says, quietly enough that only RK900 and maybe Connor can hear him.

**Initializing scan**  
**Scan canceled** : no crime suspected

**Initializing analysis**  
**Heart rate** : severely elevated  
**Breathing** : elevated  
**Stress estimate** : 72%  
 **Result** : probable panic attack  
 **//Detective Reed suffers from panic attacks**

The detective tries to control his breathing and his stress level starts to fall, only to spike up to 84% along with a noise of pain when Lieutenant Anderson grabs his arm.

**//Detective Reed has a strong negative reaction to touch**  
 **Objective** : Improve coworker relations  
Avoid physical contact with Detective Reed  
Apologize for overstepped boundaries

Detective Reed leaves the precinct, and RK900 doesn't follow. Lieutenant Anderson tries to apologize for Detective Reed's behavior. 

"It's fine, nothing was damaged," RK900 says, and Lieutenant Anderson shakes his head. "It would have been helpful to know that the detective has an averse reaction to physical contact." The lieutenant scoffs and shakes his head.

"He's a cop, he doesn't have an 'averse reaction to physical contact.' He just threw a fit 'cause you're an android, nothin' more to it."

RK900 looks over at Connor, who appears vaguely disappointed at Lieutenant Anderson's dismissal of Detective Reed's behavior. They saw the same thing, they're on the same page at least, even if nobody else will see it. Detective Reed appears to be a private man, especially if his own coworkers can't recognize a panic attack. He will keep his mouth shut, and he will try again tomorrow. He won't, however, allow the detective to surprise him like that again. He understands the fight or flight response, knows the havoc adrenaline wreaks on the nervous system, but he certainly won't become a punching bag.

**Objective** : Improve coworker relations  
Make footsteps audible  
Offer coffee  
Place the cup on the desk  
Stay out of Detective Reed's personal space  
Update Detective Reed on the case

The detective's stress level is moderate and he is hostile and foul-mouthed, but he catches on to what RK900 implies much faster than he thought he might, takes his analysis at face value and immediately pulls up the information he thinks will be necessary, juggling work and caffeine with practiced ease and completely forgetting about the papers he has to sign and file before he can get back to field work.

**//Detective Reed is highly motivated but easily distracted**

He can work with this. He can keep the detective on track, keep his stress levels down, keep their efficiency high, prove to everyone that they are more and _better_ than they think they are.

_Oh_. RK900 might be just as ambitious as Detective Reed seems to be. Good to know.


	2. Best of Banter (Don't Look At Me All Proud)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The banter between Nines and Connor is Gavin's entertainment when he's stuck waiting on warrants. Nobody ever bothered teaching him how to take a compliment, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5/20/20 - did I edit this because I rewatched Detroit Evolution to look at Christopher Trindade's arms and somehow managed to register the phrase "I was the absolute goddamn worst to you when we met"? Yes. I also did it to avoid writing chapter 3. Minor changes to the timeline, a few additions to allude to Gavin being a Bad Person, nothing earth shattering.

Gavin has been working with 900 for a couple months now and 900 is... a complete bastard. Utterly incorrigible. And Gavin can't even take any credit for the behavior, he's just like that.

Or... is he, though? Is he really what he seems to be, a sarcastic asshole who takes no shit and manages to keep Gavin himself in line with almost scary ease? Or is it all just programming, just his integration protocol, just shiny wrapping paper covering a machine that doesn't feel anything? And when the hell did he become a _he_ instead of an _it_?

900 has started offering to take the paperwork down to the filing room, and it's absolutely not because he's trying to win brownie points, or because he caught on to the fact that whenever it's Gavin, the attending officers purposefully misfile everything. No, he does it so he can take the long way back to his desk, circling around Hank and Connor's workstation. By now, Gavin knows the pattern and keeps an eye on him, though he keeps up the pretense of focusing on the Rubik's cube that 900 had tossed him last week, as if he doesn't have several of his own at his apartment. Not that anybody would really know that. 900 slows as he passes Connor, and Gavin can see the barely-there smirk on his face.

"Ew, a deviant," 900 says completely deadpan, and Gavin swallows a scoff.

"Gross, where?" Connor shoots back, his voice a couple notes higher and infinitely bitchier, and Gavin ducks his head to look at his Rubik's cube before anyone can see the silent laughter written on his face. After all, he knows Chris and Tina are betting on when he and 900 will kill each other. He might not _mean_ the insults anymore, but he's sure as hell gonna string those two fuckers along.

Hank gives a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, Shining twins, are you fuckin' finished? Or do I have to listen to you two not getting any work done for the next half hour?"

Gavin glances up just in time to see Connor and 900's LEDs spin yellow for less than a second before they both _shift,_ spines going straight and faces going blank and heads tilting the same degree to the side as they stare at Hank.

"Come and play with us, Danny," they say in unison, and it sounds like they've ripped the audio straight from the movie. Hank physically recoils into his chair and Gavin lets out a loud guffaw. The androids drop the creep routine and 900 finally returns to his desk across from Gavin. Hank glares, and Gavin just laughs louder, slamming his half-finished cube onto his desk. 

"You fuckin' asked for it. I mean literally, you asked for it, holy shit," Gavin says, still chuckling.

"Shouldn't you be working? Or continuing to fail at solving that stupid fucking cube?" Hank grouches. Gavin tries not to laugh in his face. He calls himself a detective? Honestly. He stands and shrugs.

"Everything's stuck in forensics and warrants, nothing I can do about that," he says. Hank scoffs, but Gavin's already halfway to the breakroom.

He's poured half his cup of coffee when he hears 900's footsteps enter the breakroom, sharp and audible above the ambient noise of the station. If he didn't know better he'd say that the android absolutely walks louder when Gavin can't see him, but the difference is so minute, he's still not sure. 900 leans against the counter, close enough to touch, no longer giving the drastic distance of that first week but still steadfastly avoiding even accidental touches. Sometimes Gavin wishes they could've gotten on the same page without him losing his shit in the middle of the precinct. Even Tina had tiptoed around him for a couple days.

He turns to the disaster area next to the coffee machine, searching for the creamer. Last he'd checked there'd been a good quarter of the container left, and Lewis better not have used the rest again. 900 reaches into the mess and pulls out the _good_ creamer, placing it on the counter. Gavin hums his thanks, picking it up to pour an ungodly amount into his coffee. 900 is more precise when making Gavin's coffee, but he only ever does that when Gavin hasn't realized that his own headache is from caffeine withdrawal.

"You're learned-ambidextrous," 900 says, and Gavin only freezes slightly. Sure enough, he's prepping his coffee with his left hand, but 900's tone makes it sound like he has more than that as proof. Is this what all those old internet posts were talking about when they mentioned the mortifying ordeal of being known? Because this is horrible.

"You write and shoot with your right hand," oh god he's still talking, "but you use touchscreens and sign your name with your left hand, and you lean left-dominant while fighting hand-to-hand but right-dominant while detaining suspects."

"Shut up," Gavin says quickly, looking up from his coffee. "First of all, don't fuckin' scan me."

"It wasn't a scan, it-"

"SECOND OF ALL, don't just tell the whole office," Gavin says. He forces a nonchalant smirk. "I'm still waiting for any of them to notice."

900 blinks, LED circling yellow briefly before settling back on blue. "You've worked here for over a decade, and an entire office of detectives and police officers just... haven't noticed?"

"Yet I'm willing to bet you caught on within the first week. Good job, plastic wonder," he says before turning his attention to his coffee, trying not to think about how long it took to relearn life while waiting to recover enough to get the shiny new prosthetic installed, how long it took to relearn again while waiting for the damn thing to fuckin' calibrate.

"Well, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, seeing as nobody has noticed that you solve the Rubik's cube every three to five minutes while distracted," 900 says and Gavin scoffs, spilling a bit of sugar onto the counter.

"Yeah, well, hazards of being the office asshole. Don't brag, didn't happen," he says, just a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. Okay, a lot of bitterness, but what can you expect?

"You are much more than you appear, Detective Reed."

"That's how humans tend to work, dipshit," Gavin says smoothly, tossing his spoon into the sink. He's definitely not deflecting a possible compliment, don't worry about it.

"Take the compliment, dipshit," 900 dishes right back, looking fondly exasperated and perfect and Gavin sputters for a moment. He tries to cover it up by taking a sip of too-hot coffee.

Connor's footsteps are a bit duller than 900's but no less audible. It's gotta be the shiny shoes they both prefer, right? He's already moving out of the coffee corner when Connor says "move, I'm gay," in a stranger's voice. Gavin chokes on his coffee. Has Hank been showing Connor old memes?

"Believe me, Connor," 900 says. "You don't need to remind us. In fact, I'm sure most of Michigan knows at this point."

"And yet, I still get propositioned on a regular basis. Clearly, I haven't been loud enough," Connor says, thankfully in his own voice as he pours coffee into Hank's mug. Gavin rolls his eyes but manages to keep his mouth shut. He doesn't know what vitriol-soaked words would fall out of his throat, and he doesn't need to risk any more disciplinaries, let alone the vaguely disappointed expression on 900's face.

"You're utterly shameless," 900 sighs, ignoring Connor's protests to turn to Gavin. "The warrant for the Turing case just came through, Detective."

"Oh, thank fuck," Gavin says a bit too loudly, immediately pounding back the rest of his coffee and burning the shit out of the roof of his mouth with barely even a grimace. "C'mon tin can, let's go arrest that asshole.

* * *

RK900 is... _pleased_ that Detective Reed allows him these distractions _._ It's much more efficient, for one. Whenever Detective Reed goes to the filing room, the attending officers will almost always either misfile at least one page or put the folder to the side for the next shift to deal with, whereas when RK900 goes, the papers are treated as a priority. He doesn't have to scan the officers to know that they're intimidated by, if not outright _scared_ of him. It increases their efficiency if RK900 is the one to go to the filing room. It would be disingenuous to claim efficiency as his only motivator, however. He can use the excuse of going to the filing room to ~~mess with~~ ~~engage with~~ ~~bother~~ banter with ~~his brother~~ Connor.

Thankfully Connor seems content to trade petty playground insults. RK900 can do better, he knows he can, he just doesn't have the experience just yet. Lieutenant Anderson cuts them short, calls them the Shining twins, and he can feel Detective Reed's eyes on him.

 **Searching:** "shining twins"  
**Results** :  
The Shining twins scene - Wide Angle Lens  
The Shining (1980) - Come Play With Us Scene (2/7)  
**Searching** : "The Shining (1980)"  
**Results** :  
The Shining is a 1980 psychological horror film produced and directed by Stanley Kubrick and co-written with novelist Diane Johnson. The film is based on Stephen King's 1977 novel of the same name and stars Jack Nicholson, Shelley Duvall, Scatman Crothers, and Danny Lloyd.  
**Reviewing** : The Shining twins scene - Wide Angle Lens  
**Downloading audio** : The Shining twins scene - Wide Angle Lens

 **Objective** : ~~Fuck with~~ Banter with Lieutenant Anderson  
Ping Connor's system to ensure synchronization  
Fix posture  
Mimic expression  
**Error** : source material low-quality, cannot mimic  
Blank expression  
Tilt head 10°  
Play downloaded audio

Hank shrinks back into his chair and ~~Gavi~~ Detective Reed laughs, boisterously and unrestrained. Connor sends a short ping, and they share a glance before moving back to their workstations.

 **Objective** : Banter with Lieutenant Anderson - Complete

Detective Reed puts down his Rubik's cube, a mere four steps away from completion though it looks hopelessly scrambled.

"Shouldn't you be working? Or continuing to fail at solving that stupid fucking cube?" Hank asks and RK900 looks to Connor, who once again looks disappointed in his human's deductive reasoning skills. He looks past Detective Reed at Officer Miller, who is openly listening but doesn't speak up, insinuating that he also believes that the detective hasn't yet solved the cube.

The lack of observation, even from those closest to Detective Reed, is... alarming? No. Concerning. He is not well-liked, having "stepped on too many toes" with his ambitious nature, but for that dislike to go so far as a complete disregard and lack of knowledge of a coworker to the point that a panic attack is unidentifiable, as shown last month... it would be nearly laughable if it wasn't so disappointing. 

In the month that RK900 has worked at the Detroit Police Department, he has overheard others speaking about Detective Reed ~~exactly f~~ a handful of times. Each time, they had dismissed his behavior as "chaotic," as if his actions aren't easily explainable. And they really are. After all, he gave the Rubik's cube so that Detective Reed would have something to do with his hands rather than playing the same two mindless phone games just to keep his hands busy, he gets coffee for him when he's too focused on the case to recognize the headache making his brow furrow, he provides distractions when a warrant is taking too long and he gets restless and angry with the need to just do something. He had dealt with the fallout of the disruption to his routine firsthand when he was assigned as his partner. Then again, seeing as the textbook case of ADHD is nowhere to be found in his medical file, perhaps this apathy has been a pattern in Detective Reed's life.

 **Ping** : Connor RK800  
Are you gonna come out of your thoughts anytime soon?  
Because your human just went to get his fourth coffee of the day.

RK900 rises from his desk. Detective Reed's caffeine tolerance is ridiculously high, but it's barely noon.

 **Objective** : Improve coworker relations  
Don't sneak up on Detective Reed

RK900 walks with slightly more force, a barely perceptible change that's just enough to make his footsteps heard over the general noise of the station. He leans against the counter near Detective Reed, who's pouring coffee with his left hand. His quip about whether the detective has been getting enough sleep gets stuck in his vocal modulator. A different prompt pops up on his HUD, and he can't predict the outcome if he follows it, but he does want to see the result. Detective Reed is poking through the disorganized assortment of coffee paraphernalia. It takes less than a quarter of a second for RK900 to identify and reach for the flavored creamer that he's found the detective prefers.

 **Objective** : Improve coworker relations  
Avoid physical contact with Detective Reed

He places the creamer on the counter and Detective Reed hums before beginning to pour much more than his usual amount into his mug. The prompt flashes again, and RK900 opens his mouth.

"You're learned-ambidextrous," he says simply, an observation rather than a personal question, but Detective Reed still freezes, stress level rising. He quickly lists his observations, hopeful that the detective will realize that it wasn't exactly a difficult conclusion, but Detective Reed stops him.

"First of all, don't fuckin' scan me."

"It wasn't a scan, it-" it was analysis, observation, the ongoing efforts to get closer and increase their efficiency as well as getting to know _Gavin_ rather than just _Detective Reed._

"-don't just tell the whole office," the detective says with a forced smirk, as if his body language isn't screaming _tense._ "I'm still waiting for any of them to notice."

RK900 feels his processors stutter. "You've worked here for over a decade, and an entire office of detectives and police officers just... haven't noticed?" An entire police department, and they haven't noticed that their coworker can solve Rubik's cubes with ease, haven't noticed that the same coworker is ambidextrous, when he isn't even trying to hide either of those facts. What else have they neglected to notice?

"Yet I'm willing to bet you caught on within the first week. Good job, plastic wonder," Detective Reed says, turning to his coffee and looking dangerously introspective, the type of introspective that RK900 has only seen once, last week, when they wrapped up a hard case that involved a traumatized child in the hospital and nobody but a Child Protective Services agent to look after her.

 **Objective** : Distract Detective Reed

"Well, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, seeing as nobody has noticed that you solve the Rubik's cube every three to five minutes while distracted," he says, and Detective Reed scoffs, spilling ~~0.05~~ a little bit of sugar onto the counter.

 **Objective** : Distract Detective Reed - Complete

"Yeah, well, hazards of being the office asshole. Don't brag, didn't happen," Detective Reed says, sounding... bitter.

 **Objective** : Distract Detective Reed - Reinstated

They've come a far way from the anger and distance of those first weeks, but RK900's Relations Program warns him that they're definitely not yet close enough to ask further questions. He is, after all, still the same man who pulled a gun on Connor unprovoked multiple times, the same man who made his first month at the department a living hell in an attempt to make the android quit, and RK900 hasn't forgotten that. But he is growing, however slowly. His insults no longer bite (usually), and he trusts RK900's analysis and judgement, only contradicting his findings when he knows the android is wrong from experience. He's still abrasive around coworkers, confident to the point of arrogance, and sometimes dangerously impulsive; but he's also patient with witnesses, uses false confidence as a smokescreen, and does his best to make sure that he doesn't smell too much like the cigarettes he smokes, the only evidence being the nicotine clinging to his fingertips and smoke particles on his sleeves.

"You are much more than you appear, Detective Reed." He wants to go into detail, wants to create a presentation of why the detective is so much _better_ than what he thinks of himself, why he's _glad_ they were assigned as partners, even though it's completely illogical and absolutely crosses the boundaries they've set up.

"That's how humans tend to work, dipshit," the detective says quickly, completely side-stepping the compliment.

"Take the compliment, dipshit," RK900 responds, and Detective Reed seems lost for words at the use of his own insult.

Connor comes in and quotes an old meme, a warrant comes through, and the detective burns quite possibly his entire mouth on hot coffee swallowed in haste. _Reddimus ad statu quo._


End file.
